Trainwreck
by yougotnothingonme
Summary: "You're a trainwreck." "Yes, but trainwrecks always make the front page." 16-year old Johanna "Hanna" Bass could be described as nothing less than a trainwreck. Between failing classes and parties that get her into a bit too much trouble, Hanna can't seem to shake those feelings she trying so desperately to block out. OC.


**Summary: **"You're a trainwreck." "Yes, but trainwrecks always make the front page." 16-year old Johanna "Hanna" Bass could be described as nothing less than a trainwreck. Between failing classes and parties that get her into a bit too much trouble, Hanna can't seem to shake those feelings she trying so desperately to block out.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl or any other publicly know brand, person or entity. The only thing I own is Hanna Bass.**

**P.S. I'm sorry for any mistake made in this fan fiction. Although I am fairly proficient in English, it isn't my first language. As a result, there is bound to be a few grammatical errors, spelling mistakes and general inaccuracies that my Irish wired brain didn't pick up on. Please let me know via private message if you see any and I'll make sure to fix it as soon as I can!**

* * *

I flicked my head upwards, letting my hair fly upwards and over my head, land gracefully onto my back, and breathed in sharply. I wasn't even given a moment to let the drugs take hold until I was taken hold of. I felt a warm hand snake its way around my bared midriff and the flutter of gentle kisses on the back of my damp neck.

"Alex, stop," I tried to tell him, lopping my head to the side. That didn't stop him. I still felt his invasive lips moving their way around my neck, nipping his teeth on my skin as he went along. "No." I put up my hand to push him away. I drop forward and put my head in my hands. Resting my elbows upon my separated knees, I took deep breaths and concentrated my vision on a spot on the floor. If only it would stop moving.

"Wow, Hanna Bass says no," Alex said in an annoyed tone. "Where did the life of the party go?"

"I'm just feeling a bit queasy. Just give me a minute." I sat up and told him, turning my head so fast the room span rapidly. I started to feel like I was Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz when she's caught in the tornado. "Can you just stay still for five seconds?"

"Just breathe, H," Alex reassured, leaning in and planting gentle kisses on her shoulder. "It'll all be fine."

"Quit speaking to me like I'm a freaking child, Alex," I fumed, finally regaining my focus and shoving him away. "Just because you're in heat, doesn't mean I'm ready to lay down with the dogs." Hearing my phone buzz on the table, I ferociously grabbed it and flipped it open. It was another message from the ever famous stalker, Gossip Girl. What sad little person reported me this time?

_Hey Upper East Siders. Gossip Girl here and I have the biggest news ever.  
One of my many sources, Melanie91, sends up this. _

_Spotted at grand central, bags in hand, __**Serena van der Woodsen**__!_

_Was it only a year ago our it girl mysteriously disappeared for a, quote, boarding school? And just as suddenly she's back?_

_Don't believe me? See for yourselves. Lucky for us, Melanie91 sent proof. Thanks for the photo Mel. _

_Wonder what __**Blair Waldorf**__ thinks? Sure they're BFF's, but we always thought Blair's boyfriend, __**Nate**__, had a thing for Serena. Better lock it down with Nate, B. Clocks ticking. _

_Let's not forget the final deity that made up the holy, or should we say unholy trinity of the Upper East Side. We're sure __**Hannah Bass**__ is thrilled to have her old party buddy back, but with her new it girl status, will __**Princess H **__feel threatened?_

_Or has our bad girl really gone good? Why'd she leave? Why'd she return? Send me all the deets! And who am I? That's a secret I'll never tell. You know you love me. _

_xoxo Gossip Girl_

I scoffed hard and quickly closed my phone. Sniffing at my nose which still tingled slightly, I stood up and reached for my drink on the table.

"I think I'm ready to take this party elsewhere," I said looking around the house. It would have satisfied me, but tonight called for something more. Serena was back which only meant one thing; she'd be the talk of the town for the next week. Not if I have anything to do with it. If I'm even half as much as the attention seeking, drug addicted party girl that they think I am, it should be no problem overshadowing my _former _best friend. Not that anyone would notice.

"Great, let's go," Alex attempted to stand up and accompany me. I, however, raised my hand and pushed him back down onto the couch on which we were sitting.

"Did I say you could come?" I asked with a sneer. Alex narrowed his eyes at me. I scoffed and turned on my heel to leave.

"Daddy's not going to be impressed, slut," he commented as I got to the elevator. I turned my head to look at him one last time.

"My dad won't notice. He never does," the elevator dinged, so I give him one last grin and entered. Opening my phone again, I knew exactly who to call for tonight. Typing in the digits and listening to the dial tone seemed to take eternity. We had precious time to kill. "Hey bitch, get your glad rags on. We're going out."

* * *

If I thought the room blurred at the start of the night, I don't know how I will manage to walk now. I didn't even know what I was doing. I think I was lying down, but I wasn't completely sure. The room span so fast I can't make head or tale of it. My vision blurred into one sea of blackness. The bar we had ended up in was dark and smoky. I felt hands trailing along my bare legs; they were shaking me. Why were they shaking me?

I could hear a faint voice in my ear. Who it is, I have no idea. The hands moved onto my arms and soon to my shoulders. Yep, they were definitely shaking me. I could feel whatever alcohol that still lay in my stomach curdling in my stomach. If they didn't stop soon, their shoes would be no more. The voice continued to get louder and louder. It was a deep, male voice – they were repeating my name over and over again.

"Hanna. Hanna," they said, gently shaking my shoulder in order to get my attention. "Hey. Hanna. Look at me. Look at me." I feel a hand pat my cheek softly. I blink my eyes, trying to focus my eyesight on who was kneeling down in front of me. "Come on, Hanna."

I groan, pushing my hands against the soft fabric of whatever settee I had found myself in. The mysterious hands continue to help raise me into a sitting position, while the accompanying voice continued to grasp my attention. I could feel my eyesight balancing as a figure evolved before me.

"Hanna, come on. Look at me," his hand held onto my neck to keep my head supported. The voice finally registered. How could I not recognise it?

"Nate?" I breathe heavily, my eyes finally adjusting to the darkness around me. His concerned features finally became apparent. "What are you doing here?"

"You called me, Han," Nate answered. "Don't you remember?" I shook my head, only for it to begin to feel extremely heavy and it drooped forward. Luckily Nate steadied it. "Hey. Easy now."

"I'm fine," I said, almost trying to convince myself. It wasn't the first time I worked myself into such a state.

"No you're not, Han," worry laced Nate's usually cool tone. "What did you take?"

"Just a lot of...martinis. Maybe some pills," I slurred before feeling my stomach lurched. I gagged, alerting Nate to quickly move out of the way. I continued to empty the contents of my stomach on the floor of the bar, as the manager finally came over.

"Get her out of here," the manager spoke angrily. "She's caused enough damage already."

"I've a car waiting outside. We'll be gone in five minutes," Nate told him. I looked up to see him looking over at me with worry.

"What's with the long face, Archibald?" I smiled, feeling relief from my sickly state. "There is no need to worry about me. I'm Hanna Bass." I stood up so quickly that I immediately lost my balance. Thankfully, Nate, the ever decent guy he was, caught me and draped my arm over his broad shoulders. Why did Nate have to be such a good guy? He always took care of me. I could call him at 5am and he would come to my rescue. At parties when I'm so inebriated that I can't walk, he brings me home. He could have been making out with his girlfriend.

The ever famous Blair – one of my best friends since childhood. Blair and Nate had always been a thing. Ever since they were little, Nate had always been Blair's. As we grew older, their feeling grew; much to the dismay of mine. I wished I could be good enough – for Nate or for any guy like him. I'm too damaged; too crazy; too...just not good enough.

Nate and I had been best friends for years; I'm probably closer to him than I am to my own brother. Chuck and I were too alike for me to tell him anything; to go to him for advice. He'd advise me to do what I would do anyway – make a mess of things rather than actually do what I should do. Besides, Nate was one of his best friends too and Blair one of mine. How could I go to anyone and say that I'm crazy in love with my best friend? It doesn't work like that. It's not a fairytale; nobody gets a happy ending in the Upper East Side.

"You're too good, Nate Archibald," I slurred, resting my free hand on his chest. Nate aided in helping me walk outside. It was too late at night so, thankfully the paparazzi had all gone to bed – or moved on once my so-called friend ditched this bar for another. Helping me into the car, Nate never left my side. We got back to the Palace – my humble abode – in no time. Well, it felt like no time. I was highly intoxicated and continuously drifted between consciousness and unconsciousness.

"Would you like some help, Mr. Archibald?" the driver asked as Nate attempted to help me out of the car.

"No thank you, Henry," I heard him say as he held me up. "Not a word to anyone."

"Of course."

Nate aided me through the lobby and into the elevator. Feelings of guilt and pity washed over me like a tsunami. Finding ourselves going through the door to my private suite, I couldn't contain myself.

"I'm so sorry, Nate," I apologise. Or attempt to. I'm not sure the words made it out entirely.

"There is nothing to be sorry for, Han," he said, making the way over to the side of the bed. "At least you're back in your own bed, safe. No strangers or creeps following you up here, trying to take advantage of you."

"Ah, but you're here," I giggled, thinking I made a funny joke. I finally found myself sinking into my super soft bedding. I felt the even softer blankets be laid on top of me like a cloud enveloping an aeroplane or something poetic like that. There was no attempt to change out of my dirty and barely-there clothes; nor take off my shoes as I lost them. They were my good heels too.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Nate said. I felt his weight deepen the other side of the bed where he sat.

"You're such a good friend," I stretched out my arm to find him in the almost darkness of my hotel suite. In the lives of the rich and successful, living in a hotel suite is nothing more than normality. I found his arm and breathed a heavy sigh. I felt his hand rest over mine for a couple of moments as my eyelids slowly shut, leading me into my sleep. Feeling his weight start to leave the other side of the bed, I quickly grab his hand. I couldn't let him go. He was the only person who I felt like they knew me – or a majority at least. I don't think he's figured out my feelings for him. At least I hope now. "No. Please stay," I begged.

"Hanna..."

"It's not like we've never shared a bed before, Nate," I managed to speak through the intoxication and sleep depravity. "Please, Nate."

I hear him sigh with a heavy breath before feeling his weight return to the other side of the bed. I turned to my side, facing him.

"Thank you," I mutter before letting sleep win the battle.

* * *

_Spotted: **Nate Archibald **in the wee hours of the morning coming to the rescue of our very own **Hanna Bass**, once again. Looks like our knight in shining armor doesn't just loose sleep for only his girlfriend, **Blair Waldorf**, after all. _

_I wonder what B thinks of all this? Sure H and N are friends, but could they be more. **Princess H **always loved to steal your dolls when you were little, **Queen B**, could she be making a move on your boyfriend too?  
_

_Send me the deets. You know you love me._

_xoxo Gossip Girl_

* * *

**Ugh, I'm sorry. I'm not too sure on this at the minute. I'm playing around with the idea of continuing this as a long term fan fiction. But I'm conflicted. What do you think I should do? Please let me know!**


End file.
